


Star Begotten

by blakefancier



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alien Invasion, Alternate Universe - Dark, M/M, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 13:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1133130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the Chitauri invaded during the 1940s?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Star Begotten

**Author's Note:**

> What is my problem? Ugh.

Most days, Howard was able to mitigate his shame with the knowledge that at least he was alive to fight, should the time come. Other days, he'd stare out at the ruins of London, throat tight with emotion, his eyes burning with unshed tears. 

All the heroes were gone, dead or worse, and even the villains were nothing more than the lingering horror of a nightmare. And here he was, pet scientist to the conquering invaders—because who besides dreamers and the insane thought to look to the heavens—waiting for his reward for a job well done. 

When the door to his bedroom opened, he tensed and closed his eyes, wondering how much his 'gift' would hurt. 

"Howard," said a familiar voice.

He gasped, eyes flying open, his chest aching. "Steve." Dear God, Steve was still alive. 

Steve smiled, lashes lowered coyly.

Howard felt sick to stomach, he felt anger and despair and arousal because Steve was… Steve stood before Howard in a pair of indecently short underpants made of black leather and thigh high boots, his skin flushed and slightly damp. "You're alive."

"Yes," Steve said, voice husky, and stalked over to him, each flex and extension of his limbs reminding Howard of sex. "Our master thinks you've done a good job and he wanted to reward you." Steve stopped in front of him and put a hand on his chest. "Anything you want, Howard."

Howard had had rewards like this before, young men and women who did any and every indecent thing he could think up. And now so would Steve. He curled his right hand over Steve's leather clad hip, his mouth dry, his cock impossibly hard in his trousers. "Anything?"

Steve licked his lips and tilted his head invitingly. "I've learned so much since the last time we saw each other. Our master, and our master's master, has taught me so very, very much about what my body can do." He stepped closer to Howard. "Pleasure and pain and surrender. Don't you want me to surrender to you, Howard?"

"Yes," he said, because he did.

"Good." Steve stepped away from him. Then Steve turned around, leaned forward, and slowly pushed down the underpants revealing the glistening furl of his hole. "I got ready for you."

Howard moaned and rubbed himself through his trousers. "Take off your undershorts, but leave on the boots."

Steve laughed—Howard wondered how many men asked that of him—and did what he was told. He looked magnificently depraved, aroused and sinful. 

Howard shoved him face first onto the bed, urged his hips up, and leaned in to lick that wicked little hole. Steve moaned, rolling his hips back against Howard's face while Howard tongue fucked him open.

Steve groaned and cried Howard's name, his body alive with pleasure, trembling and jerking, hole spasming around Howard's tongue. "Please," Steve whined, finally. "Please fuck me. Please, please, please, Howard. It hurts. It hurts so much. I want your cock."

Howard knew it hurt, it always did. Whatever the Other did to his whores changed them. He gave Steve's hole a final lick before pulling away. "On your back."

Steve rolled over, stretching his hands over his head in submission, and lifted and spread his knees. "Please."

He fumbled open his trousers and drew out his cock. A half dozen sick fantasies spooled out of his imagination, but he discarded all of them, not because of some fellow feeling, but because he was too desperate to wait. He shoved his cock into Steve's waiting hole, groaning at the tight heat of it. 

"God, yes," Steve said, panting harshly. He wrapped his legs around Howard's waist and urged him on. "Please, more. Hard and fast, Howard. Just use me." 

Steve's words went straight to his cock and he shuddered. He took a deep breath, braced himself against the bed, and without any finesse whatsoever, pounded into Steve's ass. Goddamn, it felt so good. He hadn't had a fuck in ages and Steve's ass was perfectly welcoming 

And God, Steve loved it. His eyes fluttered shut and his mouth fell open as if he were waiting for a cock—maybe he was, maybe he was used to a cock in his mouth as well as his ass—and the moans, fuck the moans coming from him were filthy. Howard had never heard anything so filthy. 

Howard fucked Steve without mercy, calling him a 'slut' and a 'whore', telling him he was less than nothing, just a bed warmer, a cock hungry little slave. Steve ate it up; his face grew red and drool dripped from the corners of his mouth, his cock jerked and spat precome, and he looked as if the only thing that mattered was the pleasure Howard's cock was bringing him. Maybe it was the only thing that mattered. 

Next time, Howard would use his mouth first, then fuck him. Next time, Howard would beat him with a belt first. Next time, next time, next time…

Howard cried out as his pleasure crested and his orgasm exploded through his body, making him gasp and shudder, broken cries leaving his lips, until he felt torn to a million pieces, broken in a way he never thought possible. He collapsed against Steve, panting, feeling sticky with sweat and come, feeling even more ashamed than he'd ever been.

"Are you all right?" he asked Steve.

"Yeah." Steve stroked his hair and wiggled. "Was good. I missed you, Howard."

"I missed you, too." He closed his eyes against the prickle of tears. "I'm glad you're alive."

"I'm glad you're alive too. They said you were okay, but sometimes they lie." Steve hummed softly. "You should keep up the good work. Maybe our master will give me to you again. You're a hundred times better than Zola or any of the other scientists."

"Have you seen anyone else?" He tried to keep the hope out of his voice, out of his heart.

"No," Steve said and he sounded a bit sad. "I hope they're okay. I hope they're happy."

"Are you happy?" It was a stupid question.

"Of course I am. I'm here with you."

Howard buried his face against Steve's throat and if he cried a little, Steve didn't comment on it.


End file.
